


bury a friend

by krissyxlove



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Missing Persons, Mystery, Nightmares, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 01:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18955489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissyxlove/pseuds/krissyxlove
Summary: "Dan," Phil whimpers.He sounds as pathetic as he feels calling out a name of someone he knows he will likely never see again. It's been too long and there hasn't even been a trace of Dan.





	bury a friend

**Author's Note:**

> i've been non-stop listening to billie eilish and it gave me a very a bad idea for a fic so here we are. 
> 
> trigger warnings: needles, water boarding, blood, suicide attempt, vomit
> 
> keep in mind this is of course a work of fiction the only reason i use dan and phil as characters is because i have trouble writing OCs.

_A gasp._

It's the same way Phil has woken up every single day since Dan has gone missing. It's been too long and the days merge together so much that Phil has even lost track since the last time he even saw Dan. The police say the case is still open, but realistically he knows they gave up the moment the call was placed. 

_He's gone. I woke up, and he's just not here._

Phil shudders remembering the chill he felt in that moment. Dan never left without leaving a note. Sure, he often left without a phone but not without a note. In that moment he immediately knew something was **really** wrong. 

Shaky hands dialed 999 promptly as a un-worried voice asked what the emergency was. 

_"My partner is missing. H-He Oh my God...He's gone. I woke up, and he's just not here._

Phil sits up and blinks slowly because everything in his life moves in slow motion now that he is alone. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he reaches for his glasses with his opposing hand hoping that maybe today he will actually find motivation to at least get out of bed. He was fooling himself of course because he has that same wish every single day. 

The world comes into focus and of course, it's still dark. Phil sighs knowing it is the middle of the night but he is still determined to at least get up to grab himself a glass of water and maybe some paracetamol for his throbbing head. 

He steps down from his bed as a creak in the floor finally breaks the silence of his room. Immediately something feels off however when the creak is replaced with another sound... _a breath_. It's coming from beneath the bed, but that is impossible because there is nothing under the bed.

_There is no one under the bed._

Curiosity killed the cat and it may as well kill Phil as well because he is far too curious to leave that sound alone. It was only one breath and it was feather light. It must have been in his mind, it had to have been his mind. His knee cracked as he kneeled to get a view under his bed. 

What should have been barren wasn't. Eyes that he thought he would never see again were looking back at him. 

_A gasp._

Phil woke up on the floor next to his bedside. In an attempt to rub his bleary eyes he ended up rubbing at the lens of his glasses. Confused and achy he goes to stand up and remember how he ended up on the floor. In the end he just persuades himself he ended up on the floor from exhaustion. It isn't out of the realm of possibility considering he rarely gets a restful sleep lately. Getting back into bed the soft squeak of the mattress supporting his weight sends a horrifying shiver down his spine as his mind flashes with a pair of familiar eyes. 

"Dan," Phil whimpers. 

He sounds as pathetic as he feels calling out a name of someone he knows he will likely never see again. It's been too long and there hasn't even been a trace of Dan. He has nothing to hold onto except for a quick glimpse and a single breath. 

"It was just a dream," Phil reminds himself. Hearing his own voice pulls him back into reality. Those eyes, that breath, that....scent. It was all just a dream, no, a nightmare. 

Phil's eyes then widen in horror as he remembers a detail that he was unable to until this point. Before he passed out in his dream he smelled something...something slightly sweet to the point he could taste it in the back of his throat.

"Weird dream..." Phil mumbles to himself as he lays back down hoping the room will stop spinning over time. He's been dizzy since Dan has left, or rather since he has gone missing. Maybe it's exhaustion, maybe it's malnutrition, maybe it's dehydration, maybe it's a horrible combination. Not that Phil cares. He's better off this way, feeling as weak as his mind is. 

It's still dark...or maybe even dark again. Day after day and night after night all just blend together. No concept of time. There isn't a point to keep a schedule.

Staring up at the ceiling Phil counts the spots that overtake his vision. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions. They are so small and buzz as quickly as his mind. Are these spots all the same or are they changing every millisecond?

Phil has no idea why his mind is buzzing with these questions. He is losing his sanity and he has been ever since that night. 

_It's too much. I can't take this. I want this to end. I can end this._

Closure, that is what he needs. 

_Bury a friend._

_End me._

Two thoughts pulsed in his mind as he has minimal choices. One he accepts the fate of Dan and buries his memories. The other, he ends up underground himself.

Desperation floods every fibre of Phil's being as it pushes negative feelings into every crevice of his mind and numbs him to the point where he doesn't even wonder where he will end up. 

_A deadly cocktail._

Phil decides on his choices and knows that wherever Dan is he is about to join him. 

He drinks down his poison and lays back in bed hoping that nature will do the rest. 

He feels instantly sick as his stomach tries to eject what he just swallowed while his vision is becoming even more clouded than before as his pulse quickens. Phil has no idea how much time has even passed so far but every minute that passes is a minute closer to closure. Sweat begins to form at his temples as cold chills and shakes overtake. Finally...darkness. 

_End me._  
_End me._  
_**END ME.**_

 _A gasp._

Phil wakes up soaked in sweat with a feeling of not only dread, but melancholy. Emptiness because it all felt so real but it was all just a dream in the end. How was it a dream? It all felt so real...in fact, he can even taste the bile in the back of his throat as if he had spent an entire night puking. His stomach is burning and churning but that is impossible; he hasn't eaten in days, maybe even more.

Phil sits up and instantly wants to spew as his stomach twists in pain. He gasps from the shock of it and another chill sends an electric shock down his spine. It's quiet again...it's dark again. 

_Listen._

Feather light breaths break the silence; almost inaudible, but they are there.

"If I close my eyes it will go away," Phil tries to assure himself. 

_A breath in..._

_...A breath out._

Phil closes his eyes even tighter than before. He chalks it up to exhaustion since he hasn't had a restful sleep in months, maybe more.

_A breath in._

_A breath out._

_Fingers gliding along the underside of bed frame_

Phil feels frozen in place as he in unable to even move now. The scratches become louder as Phil's heart begins to beat erratically.

 _Thump, thump, thump._  
_Thump, thump, thump, thump._  
_**THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.**_

_A gasp._

Silence. That is the only thing surrounding Phil and for that, he is relieved. These horrible nightmares keep infiltrating his life to the point he can't even tell what is a dream and what is reality anymore. 

_Careful._

Something in his mind was setting off alarms as he had the sudden urge to get up and run. He had no idea where he was running to, but he needed to leave **now.**

Leaping out of bed to sprint full force into the hall is a bad idea on most days, but today it was an even worse choice as his vision was overtaken by a million little stars and a stabbing pain in his back. It felt as if ten or more needles were all pressed into his back before a rush of liquid was pushed into his veins.

Before the world faded to black Phil saw a familiar silhouette. He was gasping for air while trying to crawl his way to Dan, his **Dan**. He was sure it was his Dan...he was sure of it. 

Dan reached out to Phil once he was in proximity and Phil clung on as if his life depended on it. 

_Cold. Bury a friend. End me._

Warm chocolate eyes have faded to jet black. They were lifeless. That was not his Dan. 

_A gasp._

Phil was laying in the middle of the floor in the hallway leading to his bedroom. He wonders how he got there as he stands up to make his way back to his bed. He feels a chill against his bare chest which is odd since he knows for a fact he was wearing a shirt before the last time he passed out. Is he stripping in his sleep now? Has he been sleep walking? On his way back to the room he passes by a large mirror and catches his reflection. His eyes look lifeless as dark circles cradle them making him look as worn out as he feels. He's lost weight and a lot of it. Cheeks that were once prominent and sculpted are now as hallow as his heart. His eyes trail down cringing at the predominate ribs that jut out at every opportunity. He can count them and he's never been able to do that before and that is terrifying to him. He is literally wasting away but he cannot bring himself to care because a life without Dan isn't a life he wants at all. Turning to walk away from his reflection several dots catch his eye. They are all over his back and look as if mosquitoes have had a feast upon his flesh, but that is impossible. 

_Cold. Bury a friend. End me._

A memory of pain sends tingles throughout the wounds on his back. He remembers the cold hand that grasped his own. The hand that was attached to the offensive being that dared to even remotely resemble his one and only comfort in life. Black pits stared back at him in that moment as something scarier than the Devil himself grinned. It was Dan, but it wasn't...it was a haunting illusion, or possibly a memory? Phil has no idea but the throbbing in his head finally has returned at full force as walls begin to close in around him. 

Phil's breaths become laboured as he shrinks down to the floor in an attempt to curl up small enough so that the walls can't reach him. So nothing can reach him. But nothing is there. 

_No one is there._

_**Someone is here.** _

Phil remains curled up in a tight fetal position as he hears feet stepping towards him. It sounds like they are limping...or maybe dragging something? _Someone?_

_Step, step, drag._

Phil's eyes shut so tightly that stars begin to form even behind his eyelids. 

_Step, step, drag._

It's rhythmic and unnatural because they are all too in sync. It's not human. It's not human. 

_It's not Dan._

_A gasp._

Phil wakes up gasping for air only to feel water choking him and filling every available orifice to the brim. He can't see due to the cold cloth weighted down with water blocking his vision. He is dying...he is drowning. 

Phil desperately tries to gasp for air as he begins to cough and hack up everything he can. Phlegm and water both mix but is only splattered to mix with the water that has already been poured down. 

"Wh-Why!" Phil cries out before he feels hands tighten their grip to secure him further by his wrists.

Another bucket it poured as Phil feels like he is being submerged under the ocean. 

His greatest fear is the ocean after all. It's dark and never ending as it holds so much of the unknown within its depths. This feeling is so much worse however because he truly has no idea where he is and who is with him. 

_It's not Dan._

It can't be. Dan is gone, and Dan is only one person while currently Phil can sense there are three. 

_Another bucket._

Why is this happening? Why is no one even saying anything? Phil cannot breathe as more water forces its way in further with every gasp that is taken. It's only been a few minutes, but it feels like he has been here for years as he struggles against the hands that are restraining him. 

He won't talk. He won't talk. 

_**What does he even know?**_

_A gasp._

Phil wakes up in his bathtub with his heart still working overtime from the nightmare he just had. The tub is full of water. How did he even get here? Was he drowning in his dream because he was drowning in real life? His mind is so hazy as his sinuses are still burning. There is no way it was only a dream, and due to that fact at least one part of these nightmares have been a reality. 

_Cold._

_Dead._

Phil should be dead. He has tried to end himself as others have clearly been trying to end him. 

Honestly, he should be dead by now, but being alive is even more torturous. Whoever is doing this knows that. 

_Whatever_ is doing this knows that. 

It's not Dan. 

Dan is gone. 

Dan is cold.

Phil is scared, but not of Dan. Why isn't he scared of Dan? 

_That is not Dan._

Phil looks out into the hallway where the offensive being stands; mocking the silhouette of his lover. 

"Leave me alone..." Phil's voice is shaking and his voice is quiet. No one can hear him. 

The figure moves closer. 

"Leave me alone!" His voice graduates to a higher pitch, giving it more distance. 

There is no movement. 

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Phil's voice booms suddenly. 

_There is no one there._

Frustrated, Phil scratches at his face and screams into the oblivion that is his home. 

Except it isn't his home. 

This has never been his home. 

_****_

_**Observation complete.** _


End file.
